


residuum

by CorvidFeathers



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Brainwashing, Emotional Manipulation, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 01:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9297758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorvidFeathers/pseuds/CorvidFeathers
Summary: The destruction of Cassandra de Rolo was a gradual thing.It was a happy coincidence that the de Rolos has a daughter so young, who happened to survive the tragic death of the rest of her family.  She was just young enough to grow past that tragedy; she would come to love the Briarwoods more than she ever had her own family.Delilah could be sure of that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for emotional and magical manipulation and all the themes therein.

“Lady Briarwood,” the voice startled Delilah out of her reverie. “I caught the girl in my workshop again.”

  
Lady Delilah Briarwood straightened, shaking off the cobwebs of indecision and doubt that had been gathering in the idle moment. Days in Whitestone were really suited for little, but some appearances had to be maintained, and on certain days she sat in the Whitestone throne room and heard the grievances of the townsfolk. There had been few, at first, and then many, and then few again, when the citizens of Whitestone learned what sentence dissent carried. It was mostly an empty gesture now, but Delilah carried it out anyway on occasion, letting a few peasants into the throne room if they were brave enough and humoring their ramblings until they displeased her. The days in Whitestone were long, without Silas by her side.

  
Baroness Anna Ripley was standing at the center of the throne room, looking annoyed. One of her hands was holding the wrist of a pale, dark-haired girl. There were twin lines of blood across one of her cheeks, and the girl was staring down at her shoes, her fists clenched, and every muscle speaking of the desire to get away from her captor. Ripley’s wrists bore similar marks as her face.

  
Delilah gathered all of her composure into a brilliant smile. One needed it when dealing with people like Ripley. “Anna,” she said, beckoning imperiously as if Ripley hadn’t already stepped into the room.

  
The wan light of a Whitestone noon shown through the stained-glass windows of the throne room. It glinted off of Ripley’s dark hair, and gave her pale skin a sickly hue, not unlike that of Delilah’s many servants. Delilah toyed with that thought, and then set it aside for another time.

  
“This child,” Ripley said. “Is becoming a nuisance. She’s interfering with my work.” She tugged on the girl’s wrist, bringing her closer. The girl let out a small cry… and then her eyes met Delilah’s and she went limp.

  
Delilah smiled. Cassandra de Rolo was one of the few unexpected yet wonderful things to come of her and Silas’ conquest of Whitestone. Children had always been something Delilah had wanted, back when her notions of the future had been vague and naïve and happy. Back when she had not had to plan and scheme and fight for her happiness. That particular facet of her desires was something she gladly discarded when Silas was brought back to her. He was enough. He was always enough.

  
But it was a happy coincidence that the de Rolos has a daughter so young, who happened to survive the tragic death of the rest of her family. She was just young enough to grow past that tragedy; she would come to love the Briarwoods more than she ever had her own family. Delilah could be sure of that.

  
“Cassandra,” Delilah said, standing up and stepping down from the dais on which her throne sat. “You mustn’t interfere with Baroness Ripley’s work. What she is doing is vital for all of our futures. For the future of humanity.” She couldn’t miss the derision that flashed through Ripley’s eyes, but she ignored it. What was important now was the girl.

  
Cassandra looked up at her with limp, silver eyes. Her dark hair fell past her shoulders, and hadn’t been cut in some time; Delilah would have to see to that. Just another little detail for her new life. For all their usefulness, undead servants did not possess much initiative of their own. She was wearing one of the gowns Delilah had commissioned for her, a dark velvet dress in the style of Wildmount.  
Cassandra dropped her gaze back to her shoes. “I’m sorry, my lady,” she murmured.

  
“It’s quite alright,” Delilah said, stepping closer to her. Her voice was soft and honey-sweet. She brushed a lock of hair back from the girl’s face. She was starting to go white along her temples. Some were better suited to strain than others, Delilah supposed, and the last two years had been… stressful for Cassandra. “It’s natural to be curious. But curiosity has its price. It killed the cat, did it not?”

  
Cassandra mumbled something indistinct. Her eyes were half-lidded, and her body slack. She was swaying slightly on her feet, leaning towards Delilah.

  
Ripley, who looked a bit unnerved, let go of Cassandra’s arm.

  
It all happened in a flash; suddenly Cassandra stiffened, and her arm flashed out towards Delilah’s chest. Something green and sharp sparkled in her palm, sending little refractions of dull light bouncing off the white stone of the throne room.

  
Delilah spoke a word, her hands moving, and Cassandra froze. The long, wicked-looking shard of residuum stopped a hair’s breadth away from Delilah’s throat.

  
Cassandra’s strained against the spell. Her eyes were wide and wild, her teeth clenched in a snarl, but she couldn’t open her mouth. The magic crackled in the air between them, holding her in place, no matter how hard she struggled.

  
“Again?” Delilah said. Her tone was still soft and honeyed. “How many times do we have to do this, Cassandra? How many times before you realize the truth? You’re bound to us in blood, child. You did that with your own hands. You’re a de Rolo no longer.” She cupped the girl’s chin in one hand. “You don’t have to keep fighting. It’s a credit to your strength… but you owe the dead nothing. You can give that up, now. Give up all of that unpleasantness.” Her voice dropped, low and sweet. “All of those painful memories. You don’t have to fight for them. You’re one of us now.”

  
The fragment of residuum tumbled from Cassandra’s fingers and shattered on the floor of the throne room. Out of the corner of her eye, Delilah saw Ripley start.

  
A tear rolled down Cassandra’s cheek, and then another. Behind the magic of Delilah’s holding spell, her limbs were trembling.

  
“You’re one of us now,” Delilah repeated, her voice layered with magic. Enchantments that had taken years to learn, enchantments to bend kings and worlds around her fingers. Against that, what defenses did a fifteen-year-old girl have? And still, she fought it.

  
Less and less, each time.

  
Cassandra’s muscles slackened again. If Delilah released the spell, she would fall.

  
“Don’t worry,” she murmured. “Sleep, for now. Sleep. We’ll talk in a bit.”

  
Cassandra’s eyes drifted closed. Delilah let go of the holding spell, and caught the girl in her arms. She barely weighed anything.

  
“Guard,” she called to one of the men by her throne. “Take young mistress Cassandra to her room, and see that she is not disturbed. Carefully!” she scolded, as the man took Cassandra from her.  
It was only after the door closed behind the guard that Delilah turned her attention back to Ripley.

  
It could have just been a trick of the light, but Ripley looked faintly disgusted. “I’m not one to walk away from a problem, especially not one as scientifically fascinating as this whole endeavor,” Ripley said. “But if your… side projects… continue to detract from my research, there are plenty of other avenues of discovery in the world, and plenty of other benefactors who could use my skills.”

  
That was a hollow threat, but it was in Delilah’s best interest that Ripley not know that, not yet. Ripley would never leave Whitestone alive, could never be allowed to leave Whitestone alive. Unlike Professor Anders, she was not a devotee of the Whispered One, just a mercenary scientist with few scruples and useful talents. Those talents weren’t common, so Delilah and Silas had to human her egotism and obsessions… to a point. It was important that Ripley continue to believe she would be able to take her money and walk away from this job no strings attached as per her custom. It kept her useful.

  
As soon as she ceased to be useful, Delilah was going to enjoy adding her to the ranks of her servants. For sure, it would be a loss to the world. Ripley would lose everything that made her useful, and interesting: those nimble fingers, those piercing eyes, that clever mind. It was an acceptable loss. Plenty of better people had died.

  
“My apologies, Baroness,” Delilah said. She smiled. “Cassandra is... something of a distraction, perhaps, but she’s important in maintaining control of the town. Through her, we can regulate and control the attempts at rebellion.”

  
Ripley’s lips curled into a sneer. “Peasants with pitchforks wouldn’t have much chance of winning against us anyway,” she said, but then pondered it for a moment. “But I suppose, in the long run, the girl saves us future disruptions.”

  
“Just so,” Delilah said. “I’ll keep a better eye on her, however. She won’t disturb your work again.”

  
Ripley eyed her warily. “Make sure she doesn’t.”

  
“Perhaps I can help make up for your wasted time,” Delilah said. “There are so many of my servants in this castle; far more than I or Silas could ever need. I could assign you a few to help you with your experiments…”

  
Ripley’s face twisted in something like contempt. “Those twitching pieces of meat wouldn’t do anything but hinder my experiments,” she snapped. “If I needed an assistant, I would hire someone living. I would dispose of them afterwards, if need be. But for the time being, I’m quite fine on my own.”

  
Delilah smiled. “As you wish,” she said. She stepped back up to her throne, and sat down once again. “Thank you for bringing the girl’s disobedience to my attention, Anna. You can return to your work now.”

  
Ripley stood still for a moment, an entertaining display of emotions playing over her features, and then turned on her heel and stalked from the room.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to @redledgers, who inspired this fic by pointing out out that probably the primary reason Cassandra was spared was she was young enough for Delilah to mold her into a daughter of her own. That hadn't struck me before but it adds a whole other layer of Awful to everything Cassandra was put through by the Briarwoods :(


End file.
